


Welcome Home

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Series: Of Walls and Nerds [23]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blowjobs, Fluff, Gratuitous porn, M/M, PWP, Reunion Sex, farewell Iggy's shirt, handjobs, references to phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 02:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12643887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: After too long away, Gladio returns from his business with Aranea, saving the World of Ruin, and immediately seeks to get reacquainted with Ignis. Intimately.





	Welcome Home

Gladio opened the door to his and Ignis's tiny apartment, and he felt like he was _home_. The air in Lestallum stank of sweat and despair, but inside the apartment the smells shifted and changed. It was cooler, less oppressive, and the air was sweetened with the scent of soap, and leather, and baked cakes of hours past.

“Iggy?” he asked, turning his attention to the slender figure that stood with his hands in the sink.

“Gladio!” came the reply, Ignis turning to look over his shoulder even though he couldn't see anything. “I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow,” he said, hurriedly pulling his hands from the sink and locating the drying cloth on the counter.

Gladio dropped his bag by the door and strode into the room. The sight of everything in the apartment gave him that small, comforting, internal hug of familiarity; the sofa, where he curled up in the evenings and read reports to Ignis, and the tiny table where they took their meals when Iris, or Prompto were dropping by, barely big enough to sit three, and with three mismatched chairs in accompaniment. There was the small fridge, terminally crammed with chilled ingredients, and recipes in the important chill/marinade for X number of hours stage, and the tidy stack of coleman camping mugs on the counter. It wasn't much, but together they had made it _home_ , and seeing it again gave him the same warm feeling that he was where he belonged that he'd once got when he was younger, returning to the family home.

Except this time it was Ignis that greeted him, and not Iris.

Gladio met Ignis in the kitchen, catching him in his arms and pulling him close and tight before Ignis had even finished drying his hands. He felt Ignis hesitate as Gladio breathed in the smell of him, his clothes, and his hair, and luxuriated in the solid pressure of his body in Gladio's arms. “Gladio?” he asked, as Gladio felt Ignis fold his arms around his back and hold on tightly.

“Managed to catch a ride early,” he answered, against Ignis's hair, not wanting to pull his nose away from the scent he'd almost forgotten. “Figured I'd been away from you long enough.”

Ignis's chest gave a small jump as he huffed, and then turned his face in towards Gladio's shoulder, squeezing him a little more tightly. “A shared sentiment, I assure you,” he replied.

Gladio inhaled again. He could smell Ignis's shampoo, and the faint hint of scented soap, and deodorant. Ignis hadn't styled his hair, leaving the soft ash strands to curl slightly at the ends and hang around his face making him look more youthful then usual. He wore smart trousers and a buttoned up shirt, with his collar hanging open and the sleeves rolled up, but Ignis didn't look his usual put together self. He looked the way only Gladio ever got to see him; recently showered, and relaxed. His glasses weren't on his face, either, leaving the scars out for the room to see.

Of course, Ignis in a state of dressed down casualness still looked smarter and more carefully put together than ninety percent of the population managed to look for a formal occasion.

“How the fuck are you more perfect than I remember?” Gladio asked, pressing his lips against Ignis's hair. Not even the scars could mar Ignis's beauty. They hadn't even ruined his pretty face, just lent it a mixed strength and vulnerability while drawing more attention to the fine arch of his eyebrow, and line of his nose. The scar on his lip made them seem plumper, softer; infinitely more kissable. Ignis wore scars well, but even if he didn't scars alone would never take away his heat, and strength, or the scent of his hair, the softness of his skin, or the way he fit so perfectly in against Gladio like it was where he was meant to be.

Bare fingers made their way under the back of Gladio's jacket, lifting his shirt up enough to press warm fingertips against his lower spine. “Your memory must be failing you,” Ignis replied. “You were quite specific about my traits over the phone.”

Gladio grinned, wolfishly, and amused. He'd called Ignis every night he'd been able to, and if he'd had the privacy, and Iggy had too, they'd made very sure they didn't miss each other too much. He'd stroked himself, listening to Ignis guide his hand with his voice, describing every line his fingers should follow, every bump and crevice and texture he should linger over, and he'd guided him in turn, listening to Ignis come to the memory of his touch.

It hadn't been enough, but it had been all they could get to see each other through, and for a while it had been a poor but craved substitute. Then he'd gone to Altissia, and they'd lost that contact. He'd been able to send messages through, and receive messages back, but there had been no more time alone with Ignis on the phone, listening to his voice quiver and his breath shorten as he'd got off. There'd been no more saying goodnight, and sweet dreams, and I love yous.

He'd ached with the loss. The whole way through moving people and supplies in Altissia, the whole time that they'd trekked through the nightmare Gralea had become, his thoughts had turned to Ignis, and hoping he was safe, and that his training was going well, and how much Gladio just wanted to curl up to him in his tiny bunk at night.

Now Ignis was more than just a memory in his arms, and Gladio brushed his lips over Ignis's temple, feeling those fingers shift under his shirt, splaying across his back as he rocked into Ignis, desperate to feel every inch of him. “Yeah,” he agreed, holding Ignis a fraction tighter, “and you're still better than I remember.”

He bent down to find Ignis's mouth with his own, pressing his lips to Ignis's soft and inviting ones. He felt Ignis sigh, rather than heard it, and felt the soft pressure of his response, leaning up, and into Gladio's kiss. Gladio shifted his hand down, following the curve of Ignis's back as he pressed in against him, and found Ignis's tongue peeking against his lips, searching for an answer from Gladio's mouth.

Gladio gave it, finding Ignis's tongue and getting firmly reacquainted while his hand busied itself finding the pert curve of a buttock, squeezing and pulling it towards himself. Ignis was all lithe muscle, and graceful strength, and Gladio had desperately missed the feel of him in his arms, and under his hands, and against his mouth. He purred against Ignis's mouth, rolling his body closer to Ignis's until he felt Ignis give a jolt as his back hit the counter.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he murmured, pulling away just long enough to tilt his head in the other direction and take Ignis's mouth in another kiss.

Ignis returned the sentiment wordlessly, allowing his back to arch as Gladio pressed into him. Their groins pressed together with the same deliberate urgency as their tongues, and Ignis dug his fingers into Gladio's back and held him close.

Gladio rolled his hips into Ignis's, enjoying the friction of his lover's warm body in his arms after too long apart. Confident fingers tracked up Gladio's side and found their way over his shoulder, sliding just under the collar of his jacket, before Ignis took the leather in his fist and pushed it back. Gladio shrugged his jacket free, removing his hand from Ignis's buttock reluctantly so Ignis could bare his arm. A long fingered hand curled around the back of Gladio's neck, playing into the longer hair at the nape before retreating to follow the line of his jaw, trailing over carefully cultivated stubble. After a little more kissing, and Ignis's tongue making its home against Gladio's, staking its claim once more on familiar territory, Ignis leaned back. His lips were flushed, and his face bright as he said, “I missed you, too.”

Gladio allowed himself a laugh as he let his jacket drop to the floor in a heap, and then Ignis against the counter with just his hips. He allowed himself a moment to look at Ignis, and take in the soft fall of his hair, and the arch of his brows, and lips. There was a flush of colour in his skin, and life in his expression, and Gladio found himself trying to save the image like one of Prompto's photographs, and tuck it away in the depths of his heart, where it would be safe.

Ignis's fingers found their way under his shirt, riding the cotton up towards his chest. Splayed fingers stroked over his chiselled abdomen, tracing lines Gladio knew Ignis could follow from memory alone. Warm palms pressed against his skin, caressing as they tracked upwards. Ignis's thumbs brushed over Gladio's nipples, lingering there as he felt them stiffen under his touch. Then Gladio reached back, and pulled at the back of his shirt, peeling it off and dropping it carelessly with his jacket.

“I guess you did,” Gladio replied, before he pressed Ignis hard against the kitchen counter again, finding his way between Ignis's thighs and rolling up against him. He cupped Ignis's face in his hands, brushing his thumb over perfect, scarred, full lips before he reclaimed them, making promises with his mouth that he intended to keep with his hips.

He held Ignis there, delighting in the way Ignis's hand wound around his shoulder, and the way his other hand found a grip on Gladio's belt and tugged him in harder. Gladio was already stiff in his pants, and the friction as he pressed and rocked against Ignis's body was sending shocks of arousal through him. Ignis brought one thigh up, pressing it against the outside of Gladio's own, and Gladio found himself that necessary inch closer that the pressure of Ignis's groin against his made him groan into Ignis's mouth.

His slid his hands down to Ignis's rear, lifting him the couple of inches onto his toes so that he was half perched on the countertop, and held him in place as he rolled against him. In reply fingers moved from his shoulder into the hair at the back of his head and gripped, and then slowly pulled.

“We're both still far too dressed for this,” Ignis reminded him, his voice low and throaty against Gladio's mouth.

Gladio gave an unhappy murmur of acknowledgement before he reluctantly relinquished his grip on Iggy's ass to untuck his shirt for him. “You're always far too dressed for everything,” Gladio complained, moving to press firm kisses against Ignis's throat, and down to his collarbone. His skin was soft and heated under Gladio's lips, and the temptation to suck until it marked was high.

“We can't all parade around disregarding social conventions and the invention of shirts, Gladio,” Ignis replied, smartly, while tilting his head to allow Gladio to kiss at the skin just below his ear with an aroused murmur.

“When this is all over,” Gladio purred, pausing to find Ignis's earlobe with his teeth and give it a nip, “I'm gonna pull some strings and have Ignis Has To be Naked Day made an official holiday.” He found the bottom button of Ignis's shirt and fumbled at it as he kissed the line of Ignis's throat.

Ignis made a thoughtful noise before he replied, “Only if I can enforce a No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service Day in response.”

“Cool,” Gladio replied, succeeding with the first button, “we could also call it No Pants Day.”

“Not my intention,” Ignis said, quietly, his voice low with arousal. Then he asked, “Struggling?”

Gladio leaned back to look down at the button he was trying to get. It was small, too small for his fingers, and just didn't want to get back through the hole. Infuriatingly, the shirt wasn't coming apart, either, and when he looked, he saw there had to be buttons on the inside of the shirt, too. “No,” he answered, and pressed in hard to silence any further interruptions with a firm and penetrating kiss, waiting for Ignis to go pliant and relaxed under his mouth again.

He gripped Ignis's shirt in both hands and tore. There was the sound of ripping cloth, and the multiple hard plinks of buttons flying away. Ignis pulled himself away from Gladio's mouth to yell, “Gladio!”

Gladio, with Ignis's shirt now hanging free and no longer in his way, ran his hand up Ignis's chest and to his shoulder, slipping his other hand around Ignis's back. “I'll buy you a new one,” he replied, without a second's remorse, and pressed back in to take another lengthy kiss.

He heard Ignis huff before their lips met once more, but when he resumed the roll and rock of his hips into Ignis's groin, stroking his thumb over the swell and dip of Ignis's collarbone as he tugged him close and devoured him, he seemed to decide the shirt wasn't all that important after all. Gladio figured he'd been forgiven when he started to drop down, pulling away from Ignis's lips again to kiss at his throat, and chest. Ignis curled his fingers into Gladio's hair, his hand cupping the back of Gladio's head, tracking his progress as Gladio slowly sank to his knees.

Gladio kissed firmly at Ignis's stomach. His musculature was never as sharply defined as Gladio's own, never as swollen and proud. Ignis was of a more slender build, and a more understated kind of strength, but it was still an undeniable strength, and there was undeniably lean muscle for Gladio to play his mouth along. The softly defined lines of his abs, and the gentle curve of his pecs fit well with his slender hips, and the soft dusting of sandy hair that began below his navel was a tantalising guide for Gladio to follow.

He popped the button on Ignis's trousers open without issue, easing the zip down as he settled onto his knees. Ignis rested back against the kitchen counter, his face tilted towards the ceiling as Gladio kissed at every new inch of bared skin. He peeled Ignis's trousers apart, and down, until he had enough space to grab at his tight fitting shorts and tug those down too, freeing Iggy's cock.

He didn't waste time with teasing. Ignis was hard, and Gladio had longed for the weight of him in his mouth, and the smoothness of him under his fingers for weeks. He guided the head of Ignis's cock to his lips, savouring the heat and softness of the skin with his tongue before he sank down onto him. He swallowed Ignis down his throat in one smooth motion, and gave a purr of satisfaction as he did.

Ignis gasped, his fingers going tight in Gladio's hair as Gladio began to suck. He drew his lips along Ignis's length, brushing his tongue against the underside of Ignis's cock as he drew back to lave his tongue over the head, and then sink back down, taking Ignis deep into his mouth again. His skin was soft as silk under Gladio's lips, and the Ignis's own musky scent filled his nose, muted and subtle after his recent shower, and thoroughly intoxicating. Gladio reveled in the taste of him, the natural salt of Ignis's skin fading under his tongue the more he licked and sucked at him, and a slightly different flavour coming to the fore as he ran the broad of his tongue over the head of Ignis's cock before sinking down on him again.

Gladio looked up as he sank down, taking in the view of Ignis's bared stomach and chest looming over him. Ignis;s mouth hung slightly open, and he held his eyes closed as Gladio sucked him in earnest. His voice was soft, and almost musical, sending a shiver of pleasure and arousal down Gladio's spine and straight to his own cock as Ignis hummed wordless praise, and Gladio's name in turns.

Gladio closed his eyes, giving his own thrum of approval in reply as he sank down onto Ignis's cock again, letting Ignis guide his movements with the hand that cupped the back of his head. He drew Ignis in, right into his throat, swallowing him down as Ignis tugged him in more firmly, and drew back when the pressure relieved. His hands gripped Ignis's hips as he sucked, keeping him hemmed in against the counter, and Gladio could feel when Ignis tried to push himself deeper into his throat with the flex and roll of his body.

“Gladio,” he warned, fingers gripping Gladio's hair. Gladio slowed himself right down, drawing back off Ignis in a long, languid suck that made the man whine with need and pleasure.

“Hold that thought,” he replied, getting back to his feet unsteadily. His cock ached in his trousers now, and seeing the flush and light sheen of sweat on Ignis wasn't helping. He looked a hair's breadth from coming, half ravished, and breathless. Gladio pressed a firm kiss to Igni's swollen, parted lips, and hooked his hands around the backs of Ignis's thighs before he lifted him up. He felt Ignis's hand tighten in his hair as Ignis held on, feeling Gladio pull him away from the counter and turn to carry him.

Ignis's legs wrapped tightly around him, so Gladio barely had to hold on to him to hold him up. The realisation sent another aroused thrill up Gladio's spine, and it was amplified when Ignis rocked his hips, his cock brushing against Gladio's stomach as he sought the friction he needed to finish. Ignis's fingers traced up Gladio's throat as he carried him over to the sofa, finding his jaw, and then guiding his lips back to Gladio's mouth. Ignis kissed him, his mouth open, and the kiss was messy and slightly off-target as it always was when Ignis was aching to finish, before he complained, “Haven't I waited long enough?”

Gladio pressed a quick kiss back, enjoying having Ignis so bossy with him before he bent over and lowered Ignis onto the sofa. “I'll make it up to you,” he promised, settling his weight on top of Ignis and pinning him into the cushions. He kissed him again, taking Ignis's cock into his hand and stroking along his length firmly, curling his fist around it. Ignis let go of Gladio, busying his hands instead with finding Gladio's belt and trousers, unfastening them both in a feverish hurry and pushing them down out of the way so he could reach in to Gladio's underwear and take hold of his cock.

Gladio groaned appreciatively, his cock aching with neglect. Ignis hooked his leg around the back of Gladio's thigh, pinning him close. Without warning he rose up, pushing against Gladio with his free hand, stroking Gladio's cock with his other as he pushed Gladio back and down, onto his own back. 

Ignis clambered over him. “Yes,” he said, settling himself onto Gladio's hips and finding Gladio's hand with his so they were stroking Ignis's cock together, “you will.”

Gladio grinned, rolling his hips upwards towards Ignis as Ignis took both of their cocks in their joint grip, and guided Gladio's pace and firmness. Ignis's hips rolled with each stroke, increasing the friction against Gladio's cock. It only got better when Ignis leaned down and took another penetrating, meaningful kiss, and Gladio coiled his arm around Ignis's back, holding the man as close as he could without disturbing their hands.

Shocks of pleasure rippled through Gladio's cock, and the sound of their skin together filled his ears. Ignis was perfect against him, and Gladio felt his orgasm building up on him with every stroke of Ignis's hand, and deliberate brush of his cock. He tilted his head so he could press messy, breathless kisses against Ignis's neck and cheek and shoulder, growling to him, “Come for me, Iggy. I want you to come for me.”

Ignis did, bucking hard against Gladio as he came, a strangled cry that was probably Gladio's name leaving his throat. “Yeah,” Gladio said, as he stroked both of them through it, delighting in the feeling of Ignis's orgasm splashing against his stomach, “like that.” His strokes grew slower as Ignis's orgasm ebbed, and he tuned his head sharply to press a firm kiss to Ignis's cheek. “Fuck, you're perfect.”

Ignis shifted, drawing his cock away from Gladio's grip before he sat up over Gladio's thighs. His skin was flushed, and his hair was sticking down more than it had been, and Gladio thought Ignis looked beautifully fucked. Ignis kept one hand splayed over Gladio's stomach while he adjusted his grip on Gladio's cock, and then he started to stroke in earnest.

Gladio gave an encouraging gasp, rocking his hips up to meet Ignis's fingers, fucking his hand. He groaned when Ignis shifted again, wrapping both hands around Gladio's cock, his fingers laced together as he stroked, his thumbs catching the sensitive underside of Gladio's cock and running over the head on each pass. Pleasure sparked through Gladio, and he arched back against the sofa, lost to the sensation of Ignis doing such a thorough job with his hands. “Gladio,” he said, his voice longing and needy, just the way he'd sounded over the phone when he'd been pleading to come, “give yourself to me?”

Gladio bucked his hips, wanting to reply, even though Ignis's hands were doing too good a job at taking away his words. Pleasure lanced through his cock, and Gladio curled his fingers into Ignis's thigh. Firm thumbs massaged over the head of his cock, back and forth, finding the slit as fingers stroked up, and then down again. “A little more,” Ignis said, and Gladio gave another buck before he came, hard, pleasure shuddering through him as he painted Ignis's hands in his orgasm. Ignis stroked him more gently as he relaxed after the high, and then released him entirely to bring the back of one hand up, and lick at the splashed pleasure there.

“Fuck, that's hot,” Gladio murmured, watching Ignis lick his thumb clean.

“I should think so,” Ignis replied, back to his usual sharp self.

Gladio gave a huff before he tugged Ignis in, looping his arms around Ignis's back and pulling him into an embrace that let Gladio tuck his nose back into Ignis's hair. “I missed you so much,” he repeated.

“I missed you too,” Ignis replied, softly, his weight settling against Gladio's form. “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a long time coming, no puns intended. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated. Thank you to everyone that has kept up with this series so far, and to those that are new readers, hi, make yourselves at home.
> 
> And with this bit of gratutous smut, the wordcount for this series crests easily over the 100k marker.


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